Cookies, Curses, and Kisses (Blue Moon Bay Book 1)

by Jovee Winters

  My heart lurched at the name, and my brain filled with images of Zinnia’s bright-red lips and haunting glass-green eyes.

  Unable to say another word, I nodded and moved to sweep past her. I was just about to the door when I saw a giant of a man walking toward me.

  I didn’t use the word lightly, either.

  He was huge, broad of shoulder, and moving with an unusual but sturdy gait. He was easily seven feet tall, and there were deep lines and wrinkles wreathing his face. How old were these people? And why didn’t they have help around here?

  “Evening,” he said deeply, voice sounding like he’d swallowed a bucketful of river rock.

  “Oswald,” Glenda called from behind my shoulder, “that car just there. Luggage is in the back.”

  He nodded. I knew I shouldn’t gawk, but I turned on my heel and watched as the giant of the man bent nearly in half to kiss her cheek.

  That was her husband?

  I gulped.

  Old as he was, I had no problem imagining that man could eat me if he had a mind to. Where I’d felt nothing but peace and kindness from Glenda, I felt the exact opposite from the giant.

  Glenda moved to the side and pointed out the door. Oswald continued without a backward glance. She looked at me.

  “Ye think us an odd couple?”

  I chuckled. “Little bit.”

  Her grin was infectious, tugging one from me as well. “Goodnight, Mr. Huntington. May ye dream with the fairies.”

  My brows twitched. “Fairies. Sure.”

  Her dark eyes sparkled, but she didn’t say another word.

  With a shake of my head, I found the set of stairs, walked up them slowly, and found my room on the third floor landing. She was right—it was the only room on the floor.

  The door was already open and the sheets turned down, as though they’d been expecting us, which was nonsense. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace. That was odd considering it was July and shouldn’t have been needed, yet it was pleasant.

  The room, however—God above, it was a nightmare. Clearly the honeymoon suite. Victorian-print wallpaper trimmed in garish roses, with a deep jet tub installed in the back, filled with water and rose petals. A bucket of ice containing a green champagne bottle sat chilling beside it.

  I groaned. Walking toward the bed, I gently laid my son down. He mumbled in his sleep, whispering things about talking toads and funny cats before settling down once more. I shook my head. There was a knock on my door. When I opened it, Oswald set down our luggage, nodded once, and left without bothering to wait around for a tip.

  Surprised but not offended, I grabbed the suitcases, shut the door behind me, and settled in for another sleepless night. As I was lying down, I recalled that I hadn’t filled out our breakfast order. But the moment my head hit the pillow, I remembered little else.

  Chapter 5

  Zane Huntington III

  SOMEHOW—I WASN’T EVEN sure how—I’d overslept by several hours. I knew I’d set my alarm, and yet, when I’d finally cracked my eyes open, the sun was hanging heavy in the sky, and bright light was streaming through the cracks in the gold window curtains.

  “But I’m hungry, Daddy. Please?” Edward was whining. I really hated when he whined, not just because it was an ear-splitting sound, but because he always knew how to turn me to putty when he did it.

  I was lacing up my shoes. “Eddie, stop. I told you we’re leaving, and—”

  His little bottom lip trembled, and there was a definite sheen of bright tears in his eyes. “But I’m hungry.” He said it softly, and blast it, I winced.

  The fight was lost. I was really hoping our power bars would sustain us until we hit the next town. Clearly, I was the fool for thinking it.

  I wanted so badly to tell him no. But two things prevented me. First, the B and B smelled amazing, as all the other rooms had clearly remembered to put in their breakfast orders. Second, the mere fact that Edward was begging for food was a miracle in and of itself.

  Zinnia’s food was clearly magic because even I was crumbling under the memory of bourbon-apple pancakes. Shoving my fingers through my already mussed hair, I groused. “Fine. Fine. Far be it from me not to feed the bottomless pit.”

  He laughed, and my own lips twitched. Edward had no idea how much it meant to me to see him smile and laugh again. No idea.

  Suddenly, a stupid and nonsensical thought floated through my mind. If it was this place that had made Edward smile, then why was I in such a damned hurry to leave?

  No sooner did I think it than I was shaking my head. We were leaving because we had to. Because I had to.

  A memory floated up to the forefront of my mind—a pair of feminine ruby-red lips. I bit the inside of my cheek. Stop thinking about her. No more lips. No more glass-green eyes. No more.

  I was about to issue a definite no when I made the mistake of looking at him. He was wearing a smile so much like his mother’s—innocent, sweet, and perfect.

  I sighed. “Breakfast, and then we go. Got it?”

  “But... but I heard there was a carnival in town, and—”

  “Edward Huntington.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose so forcefully I was afraid I’d taken the skin right off. “Breakfast, and then we go, buddy. We’re already a day late to pick up the keys for the rental. I don’t want to keep Ms. Keller waiting on us another day. Do you hear me?”

  Casting his dark eyes down at his feet, he wore a tight frown as he said, “Yes, sir.”

  Seeing him that way was like a punch square to my gut. I remembered all the times my own father had made me feel small and unimportant. He’d been so cold, so unfeeling even then, when I’d been nothing but a precocious seven-year-old boy who couldn’t understand why his daddy hated him so.

  Blowing out a heavy breath twisted with the echoing threads of old pain, I rubbed my boy’s head. I wasn’t my father. I would never be that man. I loved my son. He mattered too. In fact, he was the only thing left that mattered to me.

  “I... I love you, Edward. Forgive me?”

  He sniffed and rubbed at his nose, but nodded as he looked up at me with his mama’s eyes. “Yeah. Love you too, Daddy.”

  I grinned. “Good. Then let’s go get some chow. I’m starving too.”

  By the time we made it to the Golden Goose diner, one thing was clear—the hustle and bustle of last night was now entirely absent. The door was locked, the lights were off, and even the goose was absent from her nest. The diner was clearly closed.

  A passing gentleman, wearing a large handlebar mustache and charcoal-colored bowler hat, glanced at me. At first, I nodded quickly in greeting. But I did a double take when I noticed the custom-made, 1911, walnut-inlaid-with-mother-of-pearl-and-gold pistol grips sticking out of the leather holster he wore. He looked like he’d just stepped foot out of the early nineteenth century. I blinked and gave my head a slight shake.

  What kind of place was Blue Moon Bay, really? That was what I wanted to know.

  “Diner’s closed,” he said in a thick Texas drawl. I rubbed the back of my neck, wondering if he was a reenactment actor of some sort.

  Probably the reincarnation of Doc Holliday.

  Then I snorted with laughter at my silly thoughts. Blue Moon was weird, and I was starting to see ghosts wherever I turned. It was definitely time to be on our way.

  “Well, you heard the man, Edward. We really should just be off, then. We’ll try to find something to eat in the next town over. Let’s get back to the Boot and pay up.”

  “What man?” he asked, and I shook my head. My son was being intentionally obstinate about leaving today.

  “C’mon, kid. We’ve still got several hours yet to drive.”

  “All right, Dad.” He nodded, looking glum, but walked back to the car anyway.

  “Doc” didn’t move, just stood there staring at us with a hard, assessing look, making my skin run with goose flesh. What was wrong with the people in this town? Who walked around in cowboy getup like that anymore?
No one, that was who. Granted, we were in California, but this place was a long way from Hollywood.

  Last night, the Munsters. This morning, the Wild West. Edward hadn’t stopped gushing about that talking toad at the Gas ’n Dash since he’d woken up this morning. Not that I believed for a second toads could talk, or any animal for that matter. I was a scientist, after all. But something about this place was definitely off. I’d hoped to shake the feeling by this morning, but somehow, it’d only gotten worse in the light of day.

  Glaring, I slipped into the front seat, shoved the key into the ignition, and turned it.

  Nothing happened.

  I frowned and turned it again.

  Nothing.

  “What the blazes?” I mumbled. The car was running just fine a minute ago.

  I glanced over at Doc. He still hadn’t looked away. Dipping his chin, he lifted a finger and pointed. “Just over yonder is our town mechanic, Coco. Might wanna get that thing seen to, Yank. Don’t think you’ll be getting nowheres this morning.”

  “I won’t need to do that,” I said. “I’m sure it’ll start in just a minute.”

  “You talking to me, Daddy?” Edward asked softly.

  I frowned. The boy was really acting weird this morning, so I ignored his random question because, clearly, I was talking to Doc Holliday.

  Glowering down at the steering wheel, I hated that I had no head for mechanics. That had been Elle’s department, not mine. I could almost hear her laughing at me as I tried and tried to start the car, causing the gears to grind, and making me wince at the harshness of it.

  Love on Lucille, Zane. Treat her with respect, and she’ll always do right by you, the memory of Elle’s voice whispered, wrapping around my heart and squeezing gently. I remembered the day I got stuck out in the rain in Lucille. Her top was down, and I was cranking the gears over and over because, just like now, the car had suddenly decided to stop working. I’d had to call my wife to bail me out. She’d shown up, rosy cheeked, chuckling at her helpless honey. All Elle had had to do was get behind the wheel, pat the dash, and whisper her little words, and the car had started immediately.

  I looked up. Doc was still staring, one brow cocked, letting me know what a fool he thought I was. Edward was sitting beside me but not looking at me. He wore his heaviness like a cloak. He didn’t want to leave yet, which was strange, and made me feel like a heel.

  I clenched my teeth in frustration.

  Swallowing those choking memories, I found myself reaching out. My fingers shook a little as I ran them along the dash and whispered gently, “Come on now, Lucille. Have a little mercy on me here.”

  Then, closing my eyes, I turned the key and...

  Absolutely nothing happened.

  Doc chuckled, and I groaned.

  “Which direction did you say the mechanic wa—” But when I looked up, Doc was gone.

  I frowned.

  “Where’d he go?”

  It had been a rhetorical question, but Edward answered anyway. “Who?”

  “The man,” I said. “The one who looked like a movie extra.” At my son’s blank look, I raised my hand. “Tall. Wore a weird hat and had a funny looking mustache?” Still nothing. “Told us the diner was closed? C’mon, Edward, stop fooling around. There’s no way you could have forgotten him already.”

  His small face pinched with confusion, and he stared up at me with his big, dark eyes as he shook his head just a little. “I don’t—”

  “Heard you were in a need of a mechanic,” a woman’s voice called out.

  For just a second, my heart trembled, imagining it was Zinnia somehow. But once I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that it was a tall, blond-haired woman wearing long braids, with a black bandana tied around her temples.

  Her face was heart-shaped and slender. Her eyes were so blue they appeared almost neon, and her skin was olive-toned. There was something definitely exotic about her features. She was beautiful but, thankfully, didn’t make my pulse flutter.

  “You Coco?” I asked as I stepped out of the car wondering how in the devil she’d gotten the jump on us so fast. A quick glance of the street showed no auto shop within spitting distance. Where had she popped up from?

  I was pretty sure though that this had to be Coco, considering she was wearing gray overalls covered in grease, with a patch on the front that read AutoShop.

  She nodded. “Yup. Butch sent for me a bit ago. Told me you might need some help.”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering how Butch would have known such a thing considering I’d only just discovered my car troubles. Not that I could ask him, the Sundance Kid had long since vamoosed. I glanced to the right and noticed the tow truck idling by the side of the road just a bit ahead.

  “Butch?” I asked just to make sure the Doc Holliday wannabe really was one and the same.

  “Mysterious man in a bowler. Likes to stare through your soul when he looks at you.” She pointed two fingers at her eyes before turning them on me and laughing, making my own lips twitch in response.

  “That his name? And here I thought he might have been a ghost, for all that my son didn’t see him at all.”

  I turned a short, thin-eyed glare on my boy, who was busily picking some nonexistent lint off his knee.

  She chuckled. “Butch is a little... intense sometimes,” she rolled her wrist by way of explanation, “but he doesn’t mean anything by it. Now, if you’d kindly pop the hood of your gorgeous girl,” she said as she patted the white pinstriping, “we can see if maybe there’s something we can do to get you on your way.”

  Leaning over the door, I popped the latch. Coco pushed up the hood and bent over. “Hmm,” she grunted not even a second later. “Well, I’m sorry to say this, sir, but you’re not going anywhere today. Maybe not even tomorrow.”

  “No.” I shook my head as she gently shut the hood. “I have an appointment to—”

  “Hate to say it, son, but you’re gonna have to think about cancelling that one.” She grimaced. “You’ve got a snapped timer belt. Easy to fix. Only problem is, I’m gonna have to order the part in. Gonna take some time.”

  Feeling the rise of irritation and anger, I tapped my foot. “How much time are we talking here?”

  She shrugged. “I can only guess, but you’re definitely looking at a day or more. If I was a betting woman, I’d say two minimum.”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. What were the odds that this would happen? Considering how cursed this entire trip had been so far, I really shouldn’t have been surprised.

  Yanking the cell out of my pocket, I said, “Well, at least this is working today.”

  Coco was running her grease-stained hands over a red rag and nodding back at me. “So we good?”

  I gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Not like I can drive the thing anyplace. Yeah, take it.”

  Her grin was small. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll get it fixed right up.”

  I was on the phone, listening to it ring, but nodded back at her. There wasn’t a whole heck of a lot I could do at this point. Might as well not drag out the inevitable.

  On the third ring, my real estate agent answered. “Hello. Keller Reality. How may we serve you?”

  “Ms. Keller.” I sighed deeply just as she inhaled. She already knew. I’d had to bump back the date of our arrival in Oregon twice before. “We have to talk.”

  “Figured you might say that.”

  Only once I’d hung up did I realize Coco had called me son. Considering I could easily be her older brother, I couldn’t help but chuckle. This strange place just kept getting weirder and weirder.

  EDWARD HAD WANTED US to go to the carnival on the pier, but I didn’t want to get too far from the auto shop. Instead, Ms. Glenda, who’d heard about our predicament from a quick phone call Coco had placed, met us down at the shop carrying a basket full of sandwiches and colas.

  When I asked for a room extension, she smiled sweetly and said, “Don’t worry your head at all about it,
boyo. But maybe ye and the lad could take a stroll by the creek.” Her mellifluous accent made the word sound more like crrr’ik. “Fresh air would do ye good.” She’d patted my cheek and pointed out the shop’s back door to a cozy-looking spot some yards back.

  The auto shop was the last building on this side of town, with nothing but wild and untamed-looking forest behind it. The boulders were large and gray, poking up out of the rocky soil like warts on a giant’s back. Conifers the size of small buildings towered high and proud into the sky, thick green needles standing erect in the gentle, swaying breeze.

  The sky was blue, with not one cloud in it, and the day was just this side of cool. I had to force Edward to eat half his sandwich. The gesture was thoughtful, but Ms. Glenda was certainly not up to Zinnia’s level of cooking.

  It’d been several decades since I’d eaten olive loaf and pimento. It hadn’t been my favorite growing up, and I still didn’t much care for the taste of it. But it filled our bellies, and that made all the difference in the world. Honestly, I wasn’t much of a cook myself, so glass houses and all that.

  “Can I go play in the water, Dad?” Edward asked not even a minute after standing. I’d expected it, of course, and I grinned. My wildling loved the woods every bit as much as his mom and I had.

  “’Course.” I nodded. “Just don’t wade in too deep, and if you see—”

  “Anything unusual, I know.” He nodded back. “I’ll call out for you.”

  I pursed my lips as I watched him run off, replaying memories of all three of us camping in the Smokey Mountains, teaching Edward the difference between edible berries and toxic ones, ferreting out reptiles, and teaching him the proper method of handling snakes. Elle hadn’t liked it one bit, but as I was a herpetologist, it was pretty much a given that I was going to pass on my passion for the cold-blooded reptiles and amphibians to our boy.

  I was always looking for specimens to add to my collection or to study. As a young child raised in a family where the motto was “be seen but not heard”, I’d had far too much free time on my hands growing up. I could have gone the way of drugs, sex, and booze like most of my friends had. Instead, I’d obsessed over lizards, snakes, frogs, and the like.